


Music Interventions

by fairygyeom



Category: GOT7
Genre: F/M, It's a little short but I tried my best., Music Therapist Youngjae
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 07:15:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20484962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairygyeom/pseuds/fairygyeom
Summary: You meet music therapist Choi Youngjae, not knowing that he won’t just let you hear sounds that can make you feel better, but also make you elicit sounds of pleasure.





	Music Interventions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jinyoungmoans](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=jinyoungmoans).

When you signed up for a weekly musical therapy—albeit begrudgingly because your family doctor just couldn’t figure out what was wrong with you, and this was his only idea you couldn’t dismiss entirely—you had expected your therapist to be a middle-aged woman playing the piano and urging you to sing nursery rhymes with her. You went to the little recreational centre where they hold the therapies in small groups. You took the late afternoon schedule because you still work in the morning.

On the first day, you found yourself in a classroom with only four other people. There were two old ladies, who you’re convinced after two weeks were only there to listen to the therapist’s soothing voice. There was also a child who just got out of surgery and was having a hard time sleeping without listening to calming music. The remaining person was the child’s mother. You figured the method wasn’t one most people use when they’re only stressed like you. They probably feel really troubled, or have a lot of free time, to think of signing up here. _Or maybe the morning and afternoon session have better numbers._

With low to nothing expectations, you were greeted with the most pleasant surprise when a man entered the room and for some reasons, brought light in. You didn’t want to look too long, guessing that he’s here because he’s the therapist’s son or one of the grannies’ grandson. He sat in front though, on the little stool different from the bean bags provided for the attendees. Everyone turned to him.

“Hello everyone! I’m Choi Youngjae, your music therapist.”

It was the only thing that kept you going for the next weeks. Choi Youngjae and his angelic voice calmed all the thoughts in your head and helped you sleep better at night. Your workmates even said you’ve became kinder. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to be friends with the old ladies always talking animatedly beside you, but you even brought them oat cookies on the fifth session. You treated the little girl and her mother for ice cream when you found out on the seventh week that they wouldn’t be coming back anymore.

It was magic, really. How did he do that? With his piano and voice, he was able to change you for the better. Although, you still feel flustered whenever his attention turns to you, especially when you two meet gazes after he finishes a song or he shakes your hand before you leave. Somehow, he heightened your self-consciousness, which was the very reason you needed the therapy. It just gave you reason to keep attending. You wouldn’t mind listening to him until you figure out what really was wrong with you.

“Hi. Have a seat,” Sir Youngjae, you insisted on calling him, gestured on the beanbag closest to him.

Timidly, you settled across him. You’ve never been alone with him, aiming to go home as soon as possible because the session usually ends around dinner time. Ironically, the small room felt suffocating with no other people around.

Youngjae smiled as he turned to you fully, sitting on his piano stool with legs apart. “I asked you to stay because I want to discuss something with you.”

Your heart raced. Is it about how the attendees are gradually decreasing, with one of the older ladies saying goodbye today, leaving only two participants unless someone else joins next week? Were you going to be merged with the morning or afternoon class? Or perhaps, he noticed how the sessions aren’t working, so he would suggest that you go find something else to help? _No_, you hoped that’s not it. This was the only highlight of your week, to see and hear Sir Youngjae.

Wait, what if it’s about that? What if he noticed how you’ve started making an effort to look good or the heart eyes you couldn’t help but give when he’s focused on playing the piano? What if he heard how you sigh dreamily whenever he smiles? Did one of the old ladies tell him you once blurted that _he’s also really hot_ when they were talking about how good his voice was? _Oh God._

“Hey, don’t worry; this is not a bad news. You have nothing to be anxious about.”

For someone who knew well that you’re there because of your anxiety, he wasn’t doing a good job calming you.

Choi Youngjae smiled, and he was forgiven.

“Up until now, you’ve been participating on our receptive therapy,” he started explaining, “and although I can see that you significantly seem less burdened since you first came here, I want to suggest that you participate on our active music therapy instead starting next week.”

Your family doctor did discuss to you the different kinds of music therapy. You opted the receptive one, feeling too pressured to participate in an active one.

You never really talked directly like this to Sir Youngjae. Maybe that’s why your voice came out too soft. “You mean, you want me to… sing?”

“Yes,” he nodded firmly.

“But I’m stressed because of my singing. Wouldn’t that make it worse, sir?” you reminded him.

Choi Youngjae leaned forward to show his sincerity. You tried to hold your posture, but maybe the proximity just wouldn’t let you relax. His eyes were piercing yours; he had really intense eyes when he’s not smiling. “I see the way you look at me when I sing.”

Crap, you’re doomed. He knew about your growing admiration. He saw the heart eyes and heard the dreamy sighs. Was he telling you to join other people so he wouldn’t feel creeped out at your obvious gawking?

“I know it’s hard, and to a degree uncontrollable, not to compare yourself with another musician, but you would only further make yourself suffer if you don’t act on your insecurities.”

_Oh._

Okay, so he hasn’t caught on yet. Thank God, _Sir Youngjae_ wasn’t that sharp on reading personal feelings. He thought you were jealous of his singing skills. While you do think you have to work harder to reach his level of soothing, it wasn’t the biggest reason why you couldn’t sing like before or feel little in front of a crowd.

“I still feel like throwing up whenever everyone’s attention is on me, sir,” you admitted.

It all started when you rehearsed for months for a recital, only to find out that your piece was performed by the participant before you. She received a standing ovation, so you felt pressured to the point that you threw up backstage. You didn’t go on stage anymore, receiving bad feedbacks from the people who were looking forward to your performance. You didn’t want to sing again unless it’s in front of people who would still love you after choosing not to subject yourself onto something overwhelming.

“Well, this is therapy, so I wouldn’t push you to do things all at once,” Sir Youngjae said the magic words. It seemed like everything that comes out of those lips work wonders. “Why don’t we start with a one on one?”

There went the familiar fast beating of your heart. “One on one?”

“Yes. Would you still be unconfident if it’s just me listening to you?”

You had thought it was the number of people that overwhelmed you, but thinking about Sir Youngjae alone listening to your voice made you feel worse. You were shaking. You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to sing in front of him. More than talent, his voice shows sincerity to the feeling of the song. Even the way he plays the piano had a certain sentiment you know you can’t achieve at the moment.

“I don’t know…” you croaked.

Youngjae’s eyes softened, and if you could melt at how he’s looking at you, you would have. He was gentle and sweet, and you were about to explode. “Do you mind just trying right now?”

“Now?” you blurted too loudly. He was cute, alright, but he was also stubborn. You couldn’t guess which side he would show. “Here? I’m not—I don’t know what to sing, sir.”

“Anything that comes to mind. Your favourite song or what you feel most comfortable to sing.”

“I—” you wanted to run.

“But of course, I wouldn’t want to push you too far. If you can’t sing even your favourite song, that means your condition is worse than I imagined. We can just continue your receptive session next week.”

You didn’t want to disappoint him. The sad look in his eyes made you feel braver.

When you opened your mouth, you don’t even remember that you were supposed to sing your favourite song. The first thing that came to mind was the one you heard him practicing on the piano when you both got to the room too early. You didn’t enter then, enjoying the music from outside, because you were afraid he would stop once you come in. From then on, you couldn’t keep it out of your head. You would even sing it out of nowhere, wondering how it would feel to have a duet with Sir Youngjae.

You opened your eyes and found him staring at you intently. His lips were moving along the words. _He was scrutinizing you._

You missed a note.

“What happened?” he asked immediately, seeing how you curled back to your embarrassment. “You were doing good!”

“I’m… I was getting conscious of how you’re looking at me, sir,” you admitted with a small voice.

Youngjae tilted his head. “Oh. Is that so?” He looked away and remembered the instrument behind him. “Then, what if I play the piano for you? You just have to sit beside me so I can still hear your voice.”

The idea of sitting beside Sir Youngjae was sending signals to your body again. Even before you could agree, he already turned around and moved to give you space beside him. You gulped and cleared your throat as you stood up and slid on the cushioned stool. You kept a safe distance so you wouldn’t bump shoulders with him.

“You do the counts. I’ll play when you’re ready,” he instructed.

Unlike your music trainers, Sir Youngjae made you feel relaxed. He rode your singing and adjusted to your melody and tempo. It’s like he was there to appreciate than to criticize. That must be the reason why for the first time in months, you didn’t feel anything blocking your throat or making your head spin. You just sang. You let your feelings out.

His arm would brush yours every now and then because he had to reach for the higher keys. But instead of getting flustered, it urged you to sing better. You didn’t want to waste his effort. You wanted to impress him even.

“How does that feel?” he asked after hitting the last key.

You turned to him, panting slightly. “It feels… good, sir.” You clutched your chest. “My heart is beating hard right now. Like I feel alive.”

“Really? Do you mind me checking?”

_What?_ “Oh.. uh—” _Well, technically, he’s a therapist, a doctor of some sorts._ “Okay…”

You put your hand down as Sir Youngjae slowly put his palm up. You breathe in sharply when it landed just in the middle, diagonally below your collarbones. He applied a little pressure so he could feel your heart thumping, maybe a little faster now that he was so close.

“Your heart is beating strong.” He looked up to you with joy. “That’s a good sign. The therapy must be working.”

It was more than the therapy. It was because Sir Youngjae was making you feel appreciated. It was more than the compliments you receive from performing something flawlessly. He was proud of you getting just a little better in expressing yourself. You’ve never felt as valued before.

“What—what are you doing?”

“Oh. Oh!” You quickly let go of his shirt. Your face was inches from his! _You were about to kiss him!_ “I’m sorry, sir! I just—I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I didn’t mean to do that, or try to do that. Oh my God, this is so embarrassing!”

You scooted away and almost fell off the chair, had Youngjae not catch your arm. He pulled you back swiftly, holding you close in case you foolishly do something to hurt yourself again.

“Hey, calm down. It’s okay.”

You couldn’t. How could you calm down when just a few moments ago, you were about to jump at him. How did you not notice your eyes closing and lips pursing to touch his? You wanted earth to open up and swallow you whole.

“Look at me.”

No. He must be either laughing or angry at what you’ve done. You’re not coming back here.

“That was the first time I’ve seen your eyes with life. Come on, show me again, please.”

At this, you had the strength to check his reaction. He wasn’t any of what you thought. His eyes were glistening, and although there was a hint of amusement, his expression seemed more relieved and _excited_.

You were still terribly ashamed though. “I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again. I was just—”

Youngjae held your face. With a single touch, he made everything stop. You could only focus on the depth of his stare and the gentle strokes of his thumb on your cheek.

“Have you ever felt the urge to do something that spontaneous before?” he asked, voice low and taking away all your strength.

“No… I don’t think so,” you answered in equal softness. “Even before the recital incident, I just stay in my comfort zone. I’m not usually this stupid, I promise, sir!”

He smiled at your insistence. Your face was probably all red. “No, you’re not stupid. You were really _brave_ just now. And given that you came here to overcome your anxiety, that was a very good sign.”

You blinked. The smile on his face finally reached you. “You’re not… mad… sir?”

“Mad?” he chuckled. “For what?”

“I… tried to kiss you,” admitting it made your ears feel really hot.

“The pretty girl I’ve been keeping my eyes on for the past month tried to kiss me,” he translated with unbelievable words, making your heart run another race. “That’s not something to be mad about.”

He has been keeping eyes on you? Then were the meetings of gazes not accidental at all? Were the sweet smiles really meant to be for you, and only you?

“And if it’s helping you with your stress, don’t you think we should practice it more?”

You didn’t have time to process what practice he could be suggesting when you felt his lips on yours. You closed your eyes, dissolving in his arms. Sir Youngjae was calmness epitome, opposite to your erratic heart. But despite your body trying to make you run away, you held him firm on his shoulders. You didn’t want to pull away. You could do this. If you could kiss Sir Youngjae, you could face a concert hall full of judging people.

When the kisses turned a little rougher, your hand went to his hair. It brought softness to balance what’s happening. On your back, Sir Youngjae’s hands were roaming, keeping you close and flushed.

You’ve never been that breathless ever since the day before your recital. You sang your heart out then, preparing for the battle for the next day. But this time, there was no exhaustion even though you were panting hard. And you felt like you won a war.

“Do you… want to sing some more?” he asked, lips dangerously still at reach.

“Yes… sir.” You nodded. And the first sound you made was a yelp when he pulled you up and sat you on the piano.

You put your hands flat on the lid; Youngjae placed his on the outer sides. He leaned in for another round of kisses, this time aiming for your neck, instead of your lips. From the mirror strategically put at the back of the closed door, you could see how intimate you two were. You couldn’t even recognize your face, which glowed with satisfaction and seethed want at the same time.

“You’re not singing,” you heard him say. And you felt a faint sting as he sucked on a sensitive spot.

You let out an uncontrolled moan, which must have pleased him because his hand travelled to your waist, holding you firmer and closer as his tongue soothed the mark he placed. He went back to your lips, but now with force, he pulled you to spread your legs and make a space for him in between. Sitting on the piano, you could only indulge to his lips and touch, with the occasional brush of his crotch.

The kissing slowed down—Wait, why was he slowing down now? You felt reality sinking in.

“We have to stop here,” he said, giving you the sweetest soft peck before gently pulling away from your body.

“Why?” It almost hurt to ask.

He smiled. Mischievously. “This is a baby grand piano, which I don’t own.” He patted your seat. “I don’t want to risk damaging it from how hard we go.”

“Oh.” You almost forgot where you were at the moment!

Youngjae offered you a hand as you got down. Your head was spinning after being swerved into different scenarios at the same time. You were making up with Sit Youngjae. He admitted that he’s been seeing you the same way for the past months. He was leading you out of the room, and you could only guess where he would be taking you.

“Are we… going to your house?” you shamelessly asked. After everything that happened, your adrenaline was helping you have courage.

“Not yet. I’d like us to have dinner first,” he said with _that_ sweet smile. “Oh, and you can stop calling me Sir. Just Youngjae is fine.”

You squinted your eyes. “You’re only saying this now?”

He shrugged. “It sounded hot earlier.”

“So… do you want me to keep calling you like that?”

“Hm…” he considered the sinful proposition with an innocent face. “Why don’t we try again later after dinner? Let’s find out.”


End file.
